


darling, stand by me

by Antarktica



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Pregnancy, Semi-, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 19:56:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11215185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antarktica/pseuds/Antarktica
Summary: a vignette on margot and alana's lives





	darling, stand by me

Clothes were never an issue in Alana’s life. Buying one, finding one—is— ** _was_** fairly an easy feat. The moons pass and it completely turns the tides over, tackling her clean record of not having any complaints about it.

Pregnancy proved her that she could find and buy clothes but they will never fit the same way again. At least for a few months or so. Suits she owned were fitted to her pre-pregnancy figure so she digressed from wearing them, unfortunately.

Wrap dresses were Alana’s old friend; dresses in general as they don’t feel restricting. The weather’s too humid to walk around in a suit; one would be foolish to expect not to be a bundle of sweat at the end of the day.

The bump was showing now, she thinks, turning around in front of the large Rococo-style mirror in hers and Margot’s bedroom. Her flowy sky blue dress treaded after her. She missed her suits, which hanged dormant right besides Margot’s own collection in their closet, still open and obviously mocking her of the inability she only decided to confront today.

**_(_ ** _No complications, yet, however there are moments of aching but they’re normal based on what she remembers from what she studied in university. **)**_

There was an unknown rustling from behind which made her turn around almost immediately.

**_(_ ** _Dark swarming behind my eyelids. I dream darkness comes into me. It comes and it's insidious **—)**_

It was Margot.  _Her wife. **Not—**_

Margot raised her hands in a defensive manner. “It’s just me.” She says, leaning her weight on the side of the door, now with crossed arms and enjoying the sight of tossed dresses on their bed and the open closet. “What’s with the expression?”

Alana tilted her to the side, facing the mirror—indeed she was frowning and Margot noticed it before she did—and then turned back around with face lit up into an impish smile. Her hands finding their way to her belly, rubbing gentle circles on it.  _Defense mechanism,_ now she’s making observations on herself and she doesn’t even know why.

“It’s nothing.” Alana lied. Margot lifted her weight back up and walked over to her, near the mirror.

“Bugged cause the clothes don’t fit on you anymore?” Lies had no place in the household they’re building and Margot always saw right through her girlfri— _no_ , wife’s lies. She trailed a hand to Alana’s waist, whilst the other found itself on her shoulder, brushing off the strands of hair that got caught by the strap of the dress. Margot made a humming sound when she looked at Alana’s eyes— _she knows_ —causing her to avert her gaze. Internally, Alana was shaking from the realization that Hannibal may  _suddenly_  be here.  ** _In their home_**. He’s locked in a cell somewhere, she reminds herself almost every single time she opens her eyes.

**_(—_ ** _damp fingers prying at me...finding every way inside. **Margot knows. )**_

“Sorry for surprising you like that,  _I was just—“_ Alana shook her head, gesturing for Margot to stop speaking and that  _it was fine, I know you didn’t intend to have that impression._ The heiress understood; it was odd how they both barely spoke a word to each other and know a message was conveyed.

The questioning look in Margot’s eyes remained and Alana knew there’s no way to segue her way out of this and said, “Fine, I surrender…” She flutters her eyes close when Margot presses a chaste to her cheeks, her hands still on her belly whilst Margot’s on top of hers and intertwined. “Yes, bugged and...” She takes a pause, momentarily glancing at her suits. “ _I miss wearing my suits_.” She finished with a wistful tone.

Margot chuckled. “You look equally as great and powerful whether you’re in a dress or a suit,” She smiles, leaving another peck to her wife’s cheek (she’s doing this frequently today) and pulled her closer, arms wrapped around Alana. “—or  _nothing_ at all, for that matter.”

It was Alana’s turn to chuckle. If anything, it lit up the mood and urged laughter out of her. Margot’s often the one leaving such remarks and it doesn’t surprise her anymore. Though, it does not mean that it’s not capable of rendering her speechless even for just a second and making her blush like a high school girl out with her  _inappropriate_ girlfriend.

She turns back around, facing Margot and pulled her into a kiss. The other indulged by pulling her closer but also was the one to pull away, in an apparent need for air.

“Is he giving you a hard time?” Margot asks, still heaving for oxygen.

Alana shook her head no. “Besides the small aches, which is normal—I’m fine, Margot.” They’ve been through this conversation a lot. In excessively unknown numbers since Alana told Margot she’d very much be glad to carry ‘their’ child.

 **(** That was the first time she saw a tear fall off Margot’s eyes. In happiness. Most of the tears that fell of her eyes were of suffering, during one of Mason’s experiments—but this time she was certain it was happiness that Margot felt when she cried. And she almost tackled Alana to the ground with the weight of her embrace, if not for her cane. She dropped it to the side and let herself be enveloped in the arms of the other.  Whispering  _Shh, I got you… and_ sweet-nothings to her ears, cradling her closer and pressed quick kisses to her hair until she’d overcame her happiness and retract back to reality. She locked gazes with Margot and knew she realized the weight of Alana’s words— ** _complications_** _. It’ll be fine; we’ll make it work out, okay?_ She remembered herself saying, and is still holding on to that fact.  **)**

Her defenestration was always the first point of the subject. Whatever it  _left of her_ —broken bones that made her lay in a platform with a ship wheel-like metal rods that kept her waist in place, months in physical therapy to get back onto her  _normal_  life with the assistance of a cane. She only used the wheelchair for about 3 months, taking into consideration its limitations despite some things that make it seem it doesn’t have one, she went with the cane. Her whole life she didn’t expect to first-handedly know what it was like to have a broken pelvis,  ** _until Hannibal_** —an achievement that branded her with words that ached—and even more so at the moment—

 ** _(_** They went to multiple specialists for insight about her past injuries—due  _to her pelvis being fractured and some other bones nearby the area, it will present her with complications in the middle of child-bearing and perhaps after it_ —she made the doctor stop after that. It was her second time hearing this. But this time a hand intertwines with hers and holds it dearly.  _Margot’s_. Her resolve is firm, she’ll go through this, because she  ** _wants to_**  and she  ** _loves_** the one who is holding her hand—not because she wants to do it for Margot, as if it was some favor—it would seem like that at first but she thinks  _otherwise_  at the moment, and smiled at her loving wife. ** _)_**

And here they are, in front of a mirror, like a normal domestic couple, ecstatic and expectant. Perhaps a few months or so—a rough three before her due date.

“Thank you,” Alana says, and is afraid she doesn’t say it more to Margot. “— _for everything_.” She buries herself by the crook of Margot’s neck, sinking into a deep embrace while she still could. It wasn’t that long before Margot actually has to settle with hugging her from behind, after all.

“No-no,  _not everything yet_ , Alana.” It sounds like a line from a soap opera but it’s the best words Margot can manage at the moment. “ _Thank you_  for everything.” Its moments like this that makes Alana wonder what she had done to be able to witness Margot’s radiating smile and then decides not to ponder on the subject further—as long as Margot’s  _happy_.

Alana’s lips curve into a smile and pulled her into a kiss. And also the one who pulled away and grinned at her wife who seemed surprise at the abrupt pull, she was committing on it and Alana feels a bit sorry for Margot.

“ _I love you_.”

“ _I love you too_.”

**Author's Note:**

> posted this also on my writing blog ( of-gossamer-freude ) ; i hope you liked it since its my first fic for this pairing and i hope to write more... until we get an s4 ( cause where in the world is it )
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated !


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